Jeru Tha Damaja - ‘Revenge Of The Prophet (Part 5)’
taken from The Wrath Of The Math (Payday/ffrr, 1996)

In my analysis of Jeru’s classic ‘You Can’t Stop The Prophet’ I drew allusions to action-adventure narratives to which Tha Damaja’s verses hold a strong link. In keeping with this, Jeru conforms to another stereotype of the genre with the follow-up ‘Revenge Of The Prophet (Part 5)’ taken from his sophomore release: the sequel isn’t as good. Now don’t get me wrong, Jeru still drops some dope rhymes here in his inimitable style (and of course the beat is superb), but for me the narrative lacks the breadth and sophistication of its predecessor. Whereas ‘You Can’t Stop The Prophet’ moves seamlessly from set piece to set piece whilst taking in a range of characters, ‘Revenge…’ lacks the momentum and sheer sense of ass-kicking fun that was captured so brilliantly on the original cut. Still, there’s plenty to talk about here, so let’s get down to business.

Verse I:

After the ‘recap’ that constitutes the beginning of the song, Jeru drops us straight back into the world of the Prophet:

It’s been a while since I escaped the library,
Fightin’ Ignorance everyday, it’s gettin’ weary,
When I think I got him,
He pulls a slip on me,
And there’s so many soldiers
In his fiendish ass army…

Although we are provided no explanation of exactly how the Prophet removed himself from the conundrum he found himself in at the end of ‘You Can’t Stop…’ it is of little consequence: he’s back in the game after what we can assume was another miraculous and daring escape. Despite his continued heroics, the Prophet now seems somewhat exhausted by his escapades and the continued struggle against Ignorance. In some ways I find this new aspect to his character disappointing, a crack in his sense of invincibility, although it does serve to reiterate the strength of the enemy.

One of the fiercest, is this nigga named Tricknology,
The last time we met he got the drop on me,
Shit happens so fast he even got some of my family,
Blasted my way up out the building,
When I catch him I’m gonna kill him…

One of my key issues with these verses is the tangibility of the enemy: what exactly is Tricknology meant to represent beyond fulfilling the role of supervillain? Whereas ‘You Can’t Stop…’ painted a picture of the ghetto with a range of personified negative forces, this new foe lacks the link to reality that made the first installment so lyrically successful (although we are told that he has been “lyin’ to children”). The Prophet’s weariness can perhaps be explained by the loss of some of his family, and the listener is left in little doubt as to his sense of purpose from this point onwards.

1-2-5th’s the stop, go outside I hear gunshots,
Run up the block,
Greedy Lou’s dead in front of the materialistic crack spot,
Trick’s yellin’ out this is my block,
I would’ve hit him, but I didn’t have a clear shot,
An innocent bystander might get popped…

The inherent evil of Tricknology is highlighted here by his attempt at the assassination of Greedy Lou, presumably another minion of Ignorance whose name draws associations with the mafia. Despite the possibility laid out in front of the Prophet to take down Tricknology he resists: no innocent blood will be on his hands. Once again, he reminds us that “he still can’t be stopped” before Tricknology’s brief, self-aggrandising interlude.

Verse II:

I’m in a fucked up position,
But if he squeezes again, I’m gonna lift ‘em,
A few seconds later now here comes the siren,
Oh shit it’s the pork chop patrol,
They’re on Ignorance’s payroll…

The tangibility of Jeru’s narrative picks up here, with Ignorance’s control of the city being highlighted by his superiority over the police. Despite the difficulty of the situation, the Prophet maintains the necessary confidence to succeed, reinforcing his superhero status. Whilst scooping Greedy Lou from the floor the police spot our hero on the scene and unleash “mad lead…in the air”. It ain’t gonna be easy…

…shit they’re everywhere,
Through in the back and forth my gun gets lost,
But I managed to get one high-powered thought off,
I split 6 pigs that got sawed offs…

As in ‘You Can’t Stop…’, not only does the Prophet have physical strength but also intellectual power that can defeat the enemy. The “high-powered thought” is an effective piece of imagery that acts like a shockwave, taking down those that surround him. Now provided with the necessary opportunity to escape, Jeru rounds the verse off with the now well-ingrained refrain that professes his invincibility, but with an increased sense of emphasis:

…the Prophet won’t go out at any cost,
You could never stop the prophet…

Verse III:

I head toward the train station,
My force did stop most of the ammunition,
Still I need medical attention,
But I’m not bitchin’, gettin’ Ignorance is my mission…

Despite the weariness described by the Prophet in the first verse he now seems fully rejuvenated and committed to his mission, despite his own injury. The image of the Prophet as powerful and yet open to harm increases his worth as the protagonist, eschewing concerns for himself in favour of the destruction of Ignorance.

All of a sudden Greedy Lou comes creepin’,
Around the corner talkin’ ’bout “Prophet you’re a goner,
We knew you followed Trick uptown because you wanna,
Get rid of Ignorance but that don’t make no sense,
He runs the world I know this from experience,
Why don’t you come and work with us,
You’ll see the boss’s game is nice,”
That night, Greedy Lou died twice…

The final twist in the tale is in fact my favourite moment in ‘Revenge…’. Like Luke Skywalker being invited to join the Dark Side, the potential for our hero to submit to the overwhelming powers of evil and his rejection of the offer only serve to elevate him to a higher level of moral worth. With another foe now felled, the Prophet continues again on his quest to destroy Ignorance. The open ending highlights that this will remain a perpetual struggle, the cycle of violence an inevitable consequence of the Prophet’s valiant efforts to bring peace to the masses. Although Ignorance’s final call for the Prophet’s execution is the last thing we hear, there remains little doubt that he will continue to fight for the forces of good in his ongoing quest. Armed with both physical prowess and intellectual superiority, we maintain belief in his ultimate success.

Of course, this is a worthy sequel, but as I mentioned at the beginning of this post, ‘Revenge…’ can’t quite match the brilliance of ‘You Can’t Stop…’ in my book. Many of the core elements of the first installment remain, but they aren’t carried through with quite the same conviction or eloquence. Although ‘Revenge…’ is an exciting and well-thought out narrative, it lacks the clear alignment with social issues that are so wonderfully captured in ‘You Can’t Stop…’, but beyond this, it simply isn’t as exciting. As with any Hollywood action blockbuster, I think you’d be hard pushed to find anyone who genuinely thinks that the sequel trumps the original, despite its considerable successes.

But let’s not go overboard. Taken as a pair, the Prophet series reveal Jeru as one of the most imaginative and ingenious MCs of his era. In terms of content, these songs really do represent story-telling lyricism at its finest, and when you throw in a great delivery and two slammin’ DJ Premier beats you’ve got something that achieves legendary status. One more installment in the Jeru series to come: hope you’re feelin’ it…

Jeru Tha Damaja - ‘You Can’t Stop The Prophet’
taken from The Sun Rises In The East (Payday/ffrr, 1994)

For those of you that check in regularly round these parts you’ll know that I’m a certified beats man who rarely dabbles in lyrical analysis. Indeed, since I started this blog back in December ‘06, it’s only really Pharoahe who has received the full ‘rhyme deconstruction’ treatment, but given that we’re in the midst of a Jeru series here at FDB it would be near criminal to skip over a deeper perusal of the man’s outstanding lyrical ability. Now Jeru can kick a little braggadocio with the best of them, but he truly excels when engaging in narratives that deal with the negative forces that plague the existence of a kid in the ghetto, and perhaps the pinnacle of his achievements in this particular category of his work can be found in the two part concept rhymes of ‘You Can’t Stop The Prophet’ and its follow-up, ‘The Revenge Of The Prophet (Part 5)’. I’m not sure exactly what happened to parts two, three and four, but let’s skip over that little piece of trivia and revel in the sheer brilliance of Tha Damaja’s lyrics in the first installment of FDB’s ‘Deconstructions Of The Prophet’ where I breakdown the classic rhymes from ‘You Can’t Stop The Prophet’.

Verse I:

Whether our hero finally breaks into this narrative from the confines of a supernova or a black hole remains unclear, but from the outset we’re left in little doubt as to the power of Jeru’s assumed ‘Prophet’ persona:

I leap over lies in a single bound,
(who are you?)
The black prophet,
One day I got struck by knowledge of self
They gave me super scientifical powers…

Casting himself as a warrior of truth, enlightened by “knowledge of self”, Jeru’s entrance here could not be more emphatic. His ability to see through the untruths that dominate the world around him and his acquisition of “super scientifical powers” take him beyond a mere champion of morality and portray him as a character of superhero proportions, a theme that builds throughout the song’s progression:

Now I, run through the ghetto,
Battling my arch nemesis Mr. Ignorance,
He’s been trying to take me out since the days of my youth,
He feared this day would come.
I’m hot on his trail,
But sometimes he slips away, because he has an army,
They always give me trouble,
mainly Hatred, Jealousy and Envy…

The true genius of Jeru’s work here is in the personification of his foes. In doing so, he creates a tangibility to his opponents: more than simply abstract concepts they become living, breathing characters with whom to battle. Only the slippery Ignorance is granted a title, his role as “Mr.” highlighting his place as the head honcho of an army made up of equally destructive forces of negativity. Jeru cruises to victory against these collective foes, employing both forces of intellect (his “sharp skilled bookmarks”) and physical strength (our hero can “dip” and “do a back-flip”) to crush his opponents. Although this is only a singular battle within the context of a wider war, Jeru reminds us of his invincibility: “…no matter what he do, [Ignorance] can’t stop the Prophet”.

Verse II:

Unscathed from his first encounter, the Prophet fearlessly continues in his quest to eliminate Mr. Ignorance, and as news of a shooting downtown reaches him he is thrown into another situation which will require all of his ’seven’ senses. It is at this stage that the structure of Jeru’s verses starts to take on parallels with traditional narratives found in action-adventure films, where the audience is taken from one set piece to another with a sense of excitement and momentum:

Let’s continue the saga, mad, mad drama,
I met this chick, she said she knew where Ignorance was at,
I said “where?”, she said downtown
He had babies having babies,
And young niggas selling crack,
I think the bitch is lying it’s a set-up
I can smell it, but Ignorance is runnin’ rampant…

Despite his reservations concerning his informant, the Prophet’s commitment to his cause sees him take the bait laid by one of Mr. Ignorance’s minions. In detailing the nature of his foe’s impact on society, Jeru grounds his narrative back in reality, highlighting the troubles facing the average ghetto dweller. Fueled by concerns over drug addiction and premature pregnancy, he heads towards his enemies despite his awareness of those in his pursuit:

I turn around, it’s Anger and he’s brought a mob along,
It’s the same old song,
Despair and Animosity got broke with the swiftness
I don’t know what they think this is…

Introducing a new range of personified negativity widens the scope of the narrative, as the Prophet finds himself in yet another perilous situation. As in any successful action film, our hero’s journey is by no means simple and tension is built as Jeru finds himself poisoned and entrapped “in the barber’s shop”. The message here is clear: despite the Prophet’s superhuman abilities, the forces that he aims to quell are by no means lacking in strength. Indeed, the narrative relies on the tension created by these difficulties and although as listeners we remain convinced that the Prophet will triumph, there is a necessary doubt that he could perhaps fail in his mission.

Verse III:

So with the Prophet now under the custody of his foe, how will he escape?

A few minutes passed by I hear a buzzin’ noise
It was that chick with some of Ignorance’s boys,
She said “Prophet we got you beat,
By the way I’m Ignorance’s wife, Deceit.
But enough talk now for your haircut”,
When the clippers touched my hair, they blew the fuck up,
After the explosion there was no one left
‘Cos I know them mob poison hair touch of death…

The unveiling of Deceit works much in the same way as in the aforementioned action-adventure narratives, with a figure who has aroused suspicion at an earlier stage now exposed as an ally of the key foe. Like James Bond unveiling a concealed gadget that we never knew he possessed, the Prophet manages to escape from a seemingly impossible situation by virtue of his hair, its power derived from its link with Jeru’s “knowledge of self” and the spiritual connotations of dreadlocks. With Deceit and Ignorance’s boys now dealt with, it is time for our hero to proceed:

My vision’s still kinda blurry, but I see a clue,
Ignorance is at the library
I hurry, with lightning speed like the flash,
He’s at the big one, on Grand, Army Plaz,
When I get inside the doors shut and the lights go off,
Damn another trap,
I hear a hissing sound, I smell a funny smell,
I gasp, I can’t breath,
Ignorance is laughing at me
Waiting on my downfall,
But he can’t stop the prophet…

In what we expect to be a final face off with Mr. Ignorance, Jeru sets himself up for a sequel. Despite the seeming impossibility of victory in the final sequence in this installment of the series, Jeru reminds his enemy and the listener that his defeat is by no means a foregone conclusion, his Prophet persona displaying the necessary self-confidence for success.

The song draws to a close with Ignorance’s misplaced taunts. By dismissing the death of his wife as inconsequential, Jeru elevates the inherent evil of his opponent to a level previously unseen. Whilst riding out on Premier’s slammin’ instrumental, the Prophet’s foe laughs as if celebrating victory, but our expectations of both Jeru’s powers and the conventions of the action-adventure narrative structure leave us with the hope that he will ultimately succeed. The genius of Jeru’s work here is both in the structure of the tale and the eloquence and style with which it is delivered: very few MCs have managed such a task with such incredible success. Tha Damaja made us wait two years for the conclusion of this tale: you’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see how it all pans out…

Poetry: the classification of this term is so complicated that it is far beyond me to try and do so on this here blogspot (indeed, it’s far beyond me in general), but the idea of rap as poetry has always intrigued me. Within the last 30 years the world has been exposed to the musical phenomenon that is hip hop whose figurehead has become the MC, and in turn it has in many ways brought poetry back into mainstream culture with an unprecedented vigour. But the question remains: to what degree can we consider the work of the MC as poetry? Can we approach it in the same way that we would the works of T.S. Eliot, Wordsworth or even Shakespeare? In what ways does it fit into this ever-expanding and increasingly elusive term? Is it possible to identify what classifies as good or bad poetry, or is it an entirely subjective notion?

The issue regarding rap as poetry always circulates around one key point for me: although some of the greatest verses ever written are undeniably poetic when delivered, they often fall down when read on the page. However, the issue of style vs. content is so central to all elements of hip hop that it realistically feels unfair to judge an MC’s words when presented in a format in which they were not intended to be appreciated. Delivery, flow, vocal timbre and rhythm are such essential components of rap that we do it an injustice by analysing it without taking these elements into account. In this way, rap music fits into oral traditions that predate literacy where rhyme and rhythm were utilised simply as methods to aid memorisation. In this light, it could be considered to be one of the purest forms of poetry that exists in contemporary society. However, it is easy to see some of the counter arguments for rap as poetry when considering the work of even some of the most celebrated MCs, and the issue is still one that I find contains uncertainties, perhaps due to the difficulty of the term ‘poetry’ in itself, if nothing else.

One artist who has always blown me away in ‘poetic’ terms is the mighty Pharoahe Monch, an MC who not only fits into the notion of rap as a continuation of oral traditions, but whose verse also carries the hallmarks of quality poetry when considered on paper. As half of the celebrated duo Organized Konfusion, I believe that Pharoahe is perhaps the closest that we have seen to a true poet in both more traditional and postmodern terms in this here game called hip hop. Perhaps my favourite Pharoahe verse of all time comes from their sophomore release ‘Stress: The Extinction Agenda’, and from the album’s third cut ‘The Extinction Agenda’:

I’m the poetical poltergeist I heist tracks from the past
And return ‘em to the present time in rhyme form
What was once dead is now resurrected on the record
And the physical words are mere residuals for my bidding
For my disposal to dispose of… who are you kidding
Nightfall, I stop the rook, then I’m looking for
the original book which contains the words of God
Six hours until dawn, my quest to capture the queen
without being seen by the pawns
Call me Bishop, bishop takes rook, rook takes pawn
pawn takes knight, knight takes queen
Queen takes the original King James version
I’m surgin up when I’m emergin’
False clergymen you’re urgin’ me to call you a virgin
wind to save the lease
Who can you trust when a priest is now the beast?
(who? what? why?)
I’m the assassinator of rap
Hit rip rhyme rap ritual hit you with my best shot
Get you sit you down, let you know I never get dropped
When I flip-flop hip-hop, when I wreck shop (nigga)
I move, with the finesse and the smoothness
Even inside of the grooves of a record, check it
Check it again, check it again, check it again
Check the metaphors, make sure they’re making sense and then
Gimme one-hundred percent credit
Let it, medi-tate, in your brain, like a seda-tive
I said it and I read it twelve in your bloodstream
Let it live
The verses of curses that burst in the face of the first time offenders
In the realm of the extinction agenda

Even without the delivery element, there is little doubting that this contains many of the hallmarks of what traditionalists would describe as poetry. Imagery: check, rhyme: check, symbolism: check, alliteration: check… the list goes on. What strikes me about this verse is that it seems also to be aware of its place within the tradition of poetry itself: as ‘the poetical poltergeist…heist[ing] tracks from the past’, Pharoahe seems consciously aware of his indebtedness to his forefathers and his ability to bring verse into a distinctly modern setting. The use of imagery is astonishing, switching between Biblical frames of reference all the way through to the spinning of a slab of vinyl on a platter, and it takes the listener on an almost visual journey that is incredibly captivating. I have at times tried to pin down a final interpretation of these lines, but I find it impossible to do so, instead losing myself in the various word images that flash before my eyes with every listen.

However much I may try to intellectualise the role of rap music in relation to a literary tradition that goes back thousands of years, I am aware of the potential to disappear up my own anus, so I’ll leave it here (if you made it this far). Whatever our feelings about the proximity of rap music to poetry may be, the fact remains that it has challenged our expectations of a literary tradition that increasingly struggles to find relevance in the modern world and for this it should be highly celebrated. Pharoahe, amongst a host of other incredibly talented individuals, have effectively revitalised a dying art, and although at times the content of rap music may be at odds with traditional expectations of verse, for me there is little doubt: rap is poetry.

Organized Konfusion - The Extinction Agenda